


The Support Support Group

by AlexTheShipper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Lucio, Bitterness, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Flirting, Excessive Drinking, F/F, Gen, Little shit Ana, M/M, Multi, Supports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-10 21:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexTheShipper/pseuds/AlexTheShipper
Summary: After tough missions the supports from Talon and Overwatch meet at nearby bars to complain about their jobs, and get drunk.





	1. Welcome to the Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Biqueenie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biqueenie/gifts).



“I need healing.” The words have been ringing through Angela’s coms all mission, and she’s beginning to feel like no one on the team would last two seconds without her there to heal them up. The words are still ringing through her head as they finally deliver the payload to safety, and head back to base. As soon as she finishes returning everyone to full health she will be done with this godforsaken mission. The bullet hole in her thigh is slowly closing up on its own, and her bruises are rapidly fading, not that anyone on her team bothered to ask her if she was okay after the fight was over.

“Mercy, I need-“ Genji starts, she turns to look at him too exhausted to keep the cold fury from showing in her gaze. Apparently she looked upset enough that Genji actually refrained from saying the word healing for once in his life. “I need to- to- go, and, and do a thing. I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you, um later. Yeah, later. Bye.” He swiftly dashed out of the room. Her grip on her staff loosens slightly the moment he disappears through the doors. 

“Good.” Angela mutters to herself, stitching up Wilhelm’s arm. “Reinhardt, you should be good as new again. I’m going out for a while, tell Soldier: 76 that I’ll have my report to him tomorrow afternoon.” She pats the gentle German giant on the arm and grabs her purse before heading out of base, making a beeline for the closest bar.

“Welcome.” The bartender greets, Angela’s heels clack loudly against the wood floor as she walks up to the bar. “What can I get for you?”

“Fireball whiskey.” Angela says, settling onto a stool. “Thank you.” She tacks on as an afterthought, turning to face Moira. The Talon healer is poised on the stool next to her, cocktail held loosely in her hand. If Mercy had to guess she’d say Moira was already drunk. “Bad day?”

“The absolute worst.” Moira groans, throwing her arms out in complaint, she nearly spills her cocktail with the irritated gesture. “God, Widowmaker is always halfway across the map, and yet every time your Tracie finds her she starts yelling for healing. I swear it’s like she’s dying every time she gets so much as a tiny bruise. And it’s not like she asks for healing, oh no.” Moira takes a sip of her cocktail, and holds up her right hand to do air quotes. “ _’Heal me_.’ Has no one taught this woman any manners?” She starts listing slightly to the side, and Angela reaches out to keep her from falling off her stool. “It’s not as If my healing orbs can travel so far before they dissipate, and half way across the city is too damn far. What does she expect me to do?” Angela hums sympathetically, smiling at the bartender as she takes her whiskey.   

“Hanzo is the exact same way, always located somewhere inconvenient and then yelling for my assistance, as if the rest of the team isn’t near death, and nowhere near as secure. I don’t have time to fly to his location and then fly back half the team would be dead by the time I returned.” She complains, tilting her head back and practically chugging the whiskey, it burns as it slides down her throat. “That’s not even mentioning his brother, who will put the entire enemy team between us before deciding to ask for healing. I am not risking myself just to save him from his own recklessness, I do have an entire team to keep up, and they may be idiots but at least they aren’t completely suicidal.”

“Ugh.” Moira groans, as Angela flags down the bartender for another whiskey. “They do not deserve our efforts.” It’s not the first time the two of them have met like this, when Moira worked for Overwatch they had wine and whine sessions practically daily. Now with them on separate sides of the fight it has become more of a weekly thing.

“Of course, they don’t. They do need us though; can you imagine how much of a disaster they would be without us.” Angela says, taking a sip from her refilled glass. They both laugh darkly at the thought. “They’d all be dead more than a dozen times over if we weren’t there to keep their stupid asses alive.” She takes another sip, and Moira waves down the bartender for another cocktail.

“Why do we bother to put in the effort though? Would it truly be so awful if we just let them die?” Moira asks, taking a sip from the new cocktail. “Perhaps if they died they might be replaced with people who aren’t complete imbeciles. Imagine how nice it would be to work with competent people, people who actually protect those of us working to keep them alive, wouldn’t that be nice?” Angela laughs at the thought.

“As nice as that sounds Moira, I’m beginning to think the only competent people on the planet are supports.” Angela says, draining the last of her whiskey. “I mean really, at least we can take care of ourselves.”   

“Of course, I’ve never met an incompetent support, and I’ve never worked with anyone else that seemed to have more than two brain cells in their head.” Ana chimes in, perched on a stool behind Angela. She turns to the bartender with a sly smile. “Can I get some Vodka shots?”

“Ana, what- what- what are you doing here?” Mercy asks, hand clenching around her glass. “This isn’t what it looks like, me and Moira just happened to be here at the same time.” She says, eyes darting to the Talon agent. Ana stares impassively at her for a moment.

“Oh, that’s too bad Angela. I was hoping I would be able to join you and Moira in getting drunk and bitching about our teammates, but if it’s not what it looks like…” She trails off, glancing at Moira as she takes her first shot. “I’m assuming the agents of Talon are as useless as every Overwatch agent I’ve worked with.” She takes another shot while waiting for Angela to wipe the surprise off her face.

“Oh, I like you; I would say Talon agents were worse, but I’ve heard about the shit your teammates pull from Angela here, and despite having multiple supports on most of your missions they’re still dying.” Moira says, causing Ana to snort a laugh. “I like you.” Moira decides. “You know, I can probably do something about that eye for you? If you would like.” It’s probably against Talon rules to heal the enemy, but Moira is too drunk to care what Akande will think, and the old sniper has been attempting to heal idiots longer than her and Mercy combined, Moira thinks the woman’s earned a break.

“I like you too, but I think I’ll keep my eye the way it is. It reminds me of why I bother to do what I do.” Ana says pausing to take another shot. “Why I work so hard to support my team despite their complete lack of common sense and any sort of concept of self-preservation. It reminds me of the threat that your teammates pose.” She whispers the last part, tone solemn. Moira blinks for a moment, and decides that she doesn’t want to touch that conversation, turning to face Angela.

“Ah.” Moira mumbles. “So, Angela, how’s your leg?” Angela blinks at her in confusion, and Ana downs another shot. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice that you were limping when you walked in, I may be drunk but I’m not blind.”

“It’s fine Moira, the bullet went all the way through, and you know my healing is strong on its own. It’ll take care of itself.” Angela waves off the concern, a bitter part of her noting that the enemy cares more about her well being than her own teammates.  Moira rolls her eyes at the comment, and stabs an injector into Angela’s thighs.

“You’re being ridiculous Angela.” She says. “You’re injured, and I can help, let me help you.” Ana laughs as Angela pulls the injector out of her thigh.

“Moira, why do you always bring an injector to support night? It’s not necessary.” Angela complains, taking another sip of her whiskey.

“Why are you always injured when you arrive? It’s clearly necessary because you are a disaster Angela. Let me help you.” Moira shoots back. Angela groans rolling her eyes and tossing the injector back to Moira, who doesn’t quite manage to catch it. “You’re lucky that didn’t break.” She mumbles stumbling off the stool to pick it up.

“And I’m the disaster.” Angela mutters. Waving down the bartender for another glass of whiskey. “I don’t understand why you make such a big deal out of my injuries anyways, I heal.” She grumbles, her words starting to slur slightly.  

“She’s always injured because she doesn’t want to ask for healing.” Ana grumbles. “Too busy taking care of everyone else to stop for half a second and let someone take care of her.” She tilts her head back downing another shot. “You, Moira, I’m dancing now, come with me.” Ana says, hopping off her stool and grabbing onto Moira’s sleeve. “I need to have some fun.” Moira stumbles after the tiny Egyptian woman.

“Have fun you two!” Angela calls after them, turning back to the bartender. “Can I get another refill?” He nods, handing her a glass. “Thank you.”  


	2. Frog Boy enters

“I’m leaving, don’t look for me.” Angela calls into the med-bay as she grabs her coat off her hanger and takes a few quick steps towards the door.

“Bye.” Lucio waves half heartedly from his chair, the lack of a cheery response is both abnormal and concerning. Angela hesitates in the doorway.

“Lucio, you’re with me.” She snaps, the audio medic looks up, exhausted. “Come on, I don’t have all night.” She gestures towards the door.

“Do I need to put my legs back on?” He makes a move to maneuver his chair towards his exoskeleton, but Angela shakes her head, holding the door open for him to float his chair past.

“Don’t worry about that, we’re just going out for drinks.” She says, patting his shoulder as he passes her. “You like you could use one.”

 “Hell yes, I need a drink Angela let’s go.” He says, and there’s the Lucio she knows taking corners at a speed she can barely keep up with.

“Did you modify your chair again?” She asks, practically running to keep up with him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Angela, this is my normal chair speed.” He says, in a tone that is completely unconvincing. She huffs, unimpressed. “Don’t tell Soldier.”

“I won’t. Just try not to wipe out again.” She snaps her wings out to help move a little faster ruffling his hair on the way past. “Wanna race?”

“You’re on.”

…

They’re both out of breath when they stumble into the bar, but they’re laughing and Mercy is still floating a little when she sit’s down on the stool next to an unimpressed looking Moira.

“You brought the frog?” Moira asks, raising an eyebrow at Angela as she takes a sip of her drink. “Didn’t you tell me he was too cheery for support night? I think the words you used were ‘happy to help’.” She does air quotes around the words, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the thought.

“Well I try to stay positive.” Lucio says, smiling at her and ignoring the slight tone of contempt lacing her voice. “My teams are doing their best after all.” Mercy and Moira scoff. “They may be exhausting, but they’re trying.” Ana laughs softly taking her third shot of vodka by the looks of it. Lucio points at her. “Don’t you laugh at me. I’m not an idiot, I know they’re a train wreck at best.” He says.

“Oh shit.” Angela whispers, laughing slightly when Lucio throws his arm out nearly knocking over a patron as they walk behind him, and making his chair tilt dangerously.   

“They’re a fucking mess, they ask for healing while actively avoiding my range. There is a glowing circle around me, stop laughing Angela, a glowing circle. If you are not in the circle you won’t be healed. It’s not a hard concept to grasp.” He snatches the margarita out of Angela’s hand and tilts his head back to drain it. “I mean really, it literally glows Ana. How stupid are they? Just, stand in the circle it’s not that hard.” Moira pats his shoulder comfortingly, taking a sip from her own drink.

“You think that’s an easy concept to grasp, honey they still haven’t figured out that I can’t heal them through barriers, or _walls_.” Ana complains, rolling her eyes at the sheer stupidity. “They’re complete idiots that can’t grasp the concept of a wall, a circle of glowing light is way above their paygrade.” She takes another shot and starts mumbling angrily in Egyptian. Glaring down at her drink, the biker next to her takes a careful step away.

“Ugh, anyways. Hi, I’m Lucio, and you’re a Talon Agent, aren’t you?” Lucio asks, turning curious eyes on Moira. “Moira, right? What are you doing here? Isn’t Talon our sworn enemy or something? I’ll be honest I don’t listen To Soldier:76 like ninety percent of the time.” He half whispers the last part to Angela looking for an explanation.

“Yeah, we’re enemies, yada yada yada.” Moira waves off his concern taking another sip of her cocktail. “Who cares about that though, I’m just here to drink and complain. Same as you. Speaking of complaining.” She drops her glass down on the bar a little harder than necessary. “Doomfist, my lord that man is a mess. I know he’s Akande the great murderer of thousands or whatever, but that doesn’t mean he should just body slam into the nearest gun wielding goon every time he gets injured.” She whines. “Not to mention his tendency to drop out of the sky on unsuspecting enemies when he has broken limbs. There’s only so much damage I can heal him through, and when he’s already injured.” She buries her head in her hands, just as the doors slam open accompanied by a low buzzing sound. “Speak of the devil.”

“Moira, what are you doing? You’re working with the enemy? How dare you betray-“ He starts, pulling himself to his full height in an attempt to threaten her.

“Go to sleep.” Ana says, firing a tranquilizer off without looking up. Doomfist hits the floor like a pile of rocks, the bar shaking slightly. “That should last, about three hours.” Ana shrugs going back to her drinks.  

“What the hell?” The bartender asks, taking a big step away from Ana with wary eyes trained on the gun in her hand.

“My apologies sir, we don’t mean to cause a disruption.” Angela says, going to lift Akande easily onto one shoulder and depositing him in a booth near the door, Lucio slides over to take a look at the man, navigating his chair around the table in order to poke at his arm. “He’ll be fine.

“Now is not the time to be gathering information on your enemy Frog.” Moira says, her voice threatening despite the fact that she can barely stand up straight. Lucio backs away from the fallen man hands up in surrender.  

“He looks dead.” The bartender points out, causing a few patrons to glance up from their drinks in concern. “I can’t have patrons dying in my bar, it’s bad for business.” Angela shrugs, shoving Akande into a more upright position and then letting him slump back against the wall.

“Everyone dies.” Ana puts in, waving off the look of fear on the bartender’s face. “Would you mind getting me another round of shots?” The bartender doesn’t move and she frowns. “Oh, stop worrying about him, he’ll be fine, and we’ll take him with us when we leave. Shot’s please.” She gestures to her empty cups, and in a daze, he goes to make more drinks, the rest of the bars patrons returning to their conversations.

 “What are you thinking Frog?” Moira asks, pulling Lucio’s eyes away from where Akande is ‘seated’. He shrugs.

“Nothing, He’s just very… muscles.” Lucio mumbles, a dreamy look in his eyes as they roam over Akande’s exposed chest. Moira frowns, tossing back the rest of her cocktail and turning to the boy.

“That, is a very bad idea.” She warns, he turns to face her more directly, but his eyes never leave Akande’s body. Moira snaps in his face. “Bad idea Frog boy.”

“What?” He blinks, focusing on her for the first time. “Why?” She rolls her eyes. “Why? You have to admit he’s hot as hell.” Lucio says, put on the defensive by the unimpressed look on Moira’s face. “He is.”

“That is true.” Moira agrees. “However, he’s even less considerate in bed than he is on the field, and as I mentioned earlier he’s not at all considerate in the field.” Lucio opens his mouth to argue, but she shakes her head, cutting him off. “Don’t do it Frog.”

“Whatever.” He grumbles, turning away to order another drink. She ruffles his hair, and he’s surprised by the affection in the gesture.

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” She says, putting her hands up in the air. Lucio takes note of the wistful gaze she shoots towards Angela.

“Well, then perhaps I should warn you as well. Angela’s in love with Ana’s daughter, has been for ages.” Lucio says, not meeting her eyes. Moira sits up straighter, nose up.

“What makes you think I care about that?” She asks, her voice cracking slightly.

“They aren’t dating yet. But they both like each other.” Lucio explains, ignoring the question. Moira isn’t looking at him when he looks up, instead staring into her drink.

“What are you two talking about?” Angela asks, dropping into the seat next to Lucio. Moira’s eyes go wide in panic, and Lucio almost falls out of his chair.

“Just how ridiculous you are, with your constant stream of untreated injuries.” Moira says, a sad smile on her face. Angela puts her hand to her chest.

“I’m not even hurt this time.” She complains. “How dare you attack me like this on support night no less. I’m hurt Moira, absolutely insulted.” She teases, and Lucio has to wonder if maybe Freeha isn’t the only one Angela is in love with.


End file.
